I was surly. I was tired.
Spending an hour in fresh air at the soccer field did little to improve my mood.
The dishwasher needed to be emptied. The counter needed to be wiped. The floor desperately needed to be swept. And scrubbed. Perhaps sand-blasted.
In the hallway I spotted my work bag, tilted with a binder and papers spilling forth -- tangible reminders of the speeches and essays I needed to grade, spreadsheets I had to update, and final lectures I ought to plan.
In response, I simply turned around, slowly climbed the steps, and went to bed.
Sometimes the most spiritual thing we can do is go to sleep. Nothing else was going to get squeezed out of me last night. Instead of fighting, I simply yielded.
Mess: 1, Robin: 0. You got me today, mess. I've surrendered.
God's mercies are new every morning. Perhaps one way we can realize this is by floundering though a day, but waking up the next morning and recognizing that we've been given another shot.